Male INFP writing fanfics (Part 1)
christmas with the styles’
summer holiday with harry
a bookshop proposal
you’re an artist
a little baby styles
it’s harry’s birthday
sugar daddy CEO harry
harry is a tattoo artist
you and harry love reading
Apologies. I have not updated my fics in a while when I promised I would at least prioritize 'Then Fight to Keep It'. It's been a hectic few months, I've been desperately looking for a job and finally found it so I barely had time to write even a few sentences. I hope y'all don't mind waiting a little bit more, I still need to get used to my schedule and not fall asleep as soon as I get home ahah I'm not abandoning my works, I swear.
There was only one bed...
And it was so small they had to lie almost on top of each other <-AO3
Scenario: Canon-ish? Maybe Post-Canon?
So do you like, live at the club?” Alex asks Willie one day as they’re hanging out. “I mean, is that where you sleep and everything?”
“We don’t really need to sleep. I mean, we can, but it’s not necessary anymore.” Willie says, evading the question.
“Yeah, we figured that out early on, but it’s nice to have that one normal thing, to be able to nap or dream the night away.” Alex then whispers, “It helps.”
“I bet you guys all sleep in a puppy pile of cuddles every night.” Willie jokes, having seen just how tactile the Sunset Curve boys are. How touchy they are with each other, unafraid to hug and cuddle. Willie is convinced that Luke can’t help but touch everyone all the time, needing to have that connection. Hell Reggie swept him into a hug on their second meeting. Willie isn’t going to complain, he can’t recall the last time anyone had touched him, really touched him. Sure Caleb would clap his shoulders, and there was always some sort of touch during their dance numbers, but Willie missed the soft touch of someone touching you just because. No expecting anything from you, not wanting anything back. A loving touch.
“Luke and Reggie share the sofa, and they do sleep like octopi, all curled around each other. The strange thing is they were like this even before they figured out they’re crazy about each other. As long as I don’t have to see or hear anything, it’s cool with me.” Alex says, smiling a little. “I have joined the cuddling sometimes, but I can’t sleep like it, so I took a space in the loft, there’s enough room for a single mattress, so it’s cool.”
“Surprised you guys don’t poof yourself into the mansions of famous rockers and sleep there.” Willie snorts, and Alex looks conflicted, as if the idea had never occurred to him, and then why it would be wrong to do so.
“Breaking and entering is more your style than mine.” is what Alex eventually says, but Willie can tell he’s now thinking about the idea and determining whether or not to ask Luke and Reggie about doing it. Then he shakes his head a little and smiles at Willie. “What about you? Staying in that Bieber guy’s house?”
Willie bites his lip, staring at the ground. “Do you-do you want to come see my space?”
“Only if you’re willing to share it with me.”
Willie holds out a hand, shaking but still there, and Alex grabs it, the familiar poofing sensation washing over him until he can focus on the space in front of him. It’s a large loft, canvases and art supplies everywhere, half finished pieces littering the space. Sketch pads and pencils spill out on top of a lone coffee table, antique cameras sit on shelves, and there in the corner is Willie’s skateboard, the cracked helmet sitting alongside it. There’s no kitchen, only a small washroom, and inconspicuously, there is also no bed.
“So you don’t sleep, like at all?” he asks, taking in the masterpieces adorning the walls. “I guess I can see where you had all the time to create these, your art is incredible!”
“Thanks.” Willie says, his blush vibrant, his smile pleased. “Ummm, my bed is here," he said, gesturing to a small area blocked off by a large sheet, and behind it Alex sees a tiny pallet, and a lone pillow. “I don’t sleep very much, and when I do, I don’t need much, with only me.”
“Might make it hard to have sleepovers in future.” Alex quips, and then blushes bright red, stammering over his words while Willie giggles madly. “I mean, I’m not asking that we-or that I want to-I mean I do, just maybe not right now-oh god, can we pretend I didn’t say anything?”
“Hot dog, it’s okay. I think I’d like it if you stayed over some time. We could make it work.” Willie said, then impulsively leapt backwards onto his bed, crooking his finger for Alex to join him. Alex stood there for a second, face heating up, mind awhirl with doubt but then saw Willie’s gentle smile, the way his eyes crinkled when he was truly happy and threw his anxiety out the window long enough to crawl onto the small pallet with Willie. He was practically on top of him, the both of them a mess of limbs and hair, but neither one could claim they had ever been so comfortable. No words were said, just the sharing of deep, loving gazes until their eyes started to droop, and with the smallest press of lips, the two of them fell asleep, still kissing slightly as they drifted off.
I made a fic for Sam and max! It took three days and has over 3000 words!
Ok you guys,
This is the first thing I write in year's. I'm loving writing it so much I can barely breathe doing it.
Gosh, I missed that.
It's not sw, but maybe there are some Hannibal fans around wanting to give it a try? It's my baby, I'm exhausted and I need a pat on my head.
Hahaha can you believe this stuff actually got aired? And they expected me to just look at it without writing smut ?
“They are what we once dreamed of as gods, mythical agents of destiny, as inescapable as Death” -Altered Carbon by Richard K. Morgan, pg 251